


A Very Hairy Christmas

by thursdayschild



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Christmas, Christmas Fluff, Fluff, M/M, Marauders, Shoebox Project, marauders area, mentions of bad things to come but mostly just cute things
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-13
Updated: 2013-12-13
Packaged: 2018-01-04 13:40:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,829
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1081666
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thursdayschild/pseuds/thursdayschild
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Christmas of their sixth year, Sirius and Remus are having Remus's parents over on Christmas Eve. However, Sirius has a very different idea of what constitutes nice holiday decorating than Remus does.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Very Hairy Christmas

**Author's Note:**

  * For [LunaLikewell](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LunaLikewell/gifts).
  * Inspired by [The Shoebox Project](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/32253) by dorkorific and ladyjaida. 



“Well, what do you think?” It was almost painful to watch Sirius so excited, yet unable to wag his tail.

Remus hesitated, hating to burst his bubble.

"It’s a start,” he offered.

"A start?” Sirius looked crestfallen. “Come on, Moony. You know it’s brilliant.”

Remus looked around the tiny flat, trying to hold in his strong desire to facepalm until _Epiphany_. Their usually shabby living room was utterly unrecognizable. Sirius had carefully charmed the faded wallpaper so that it flashed gold stars over dancing stripes of red and green at a truly nauseating rate. A somewhat dilapidated tree rotated a foot or so above the floor in one corner, so covered in magical snow, tinsel, and a staggeringly huge assortment of dingy Muggle ornaments that it was hard to tell that the colorful cone was a tree at all. The doorways and windows were all framed with fluffy, gold ribbon held up with large amounts of blue painters tape and wriggling with what Sirius claimed was the Christmas spirit and Remus suspected was an experimental (i.e. illegal) charm. Discarded Muggle Christmas throws adorned their second-hand furniture. A magical fire was crackling merrily in a fireplace that they certainly hadn’t had that morning and in front of it lay a red rug with furry white trim. All in all, it was a truly dizzying sight and in the middle of everything was Sirius, a Santa hat pulled down over his ears against the cold air of the flat. To top it all off, the hat was singing a medley Sirius’s own rewritten Christmas carols including “God Rest Ye, Merry Gryffindors,” “The Mandrakes and the Devil’s Snare,” and, “I Saw McGonagall Kissing Dumbledore.”

"Sirius,” Remus sighed, looking pained. “My _parents_ are coming over.”

"So? I showered. I even cleaned up, look.” He gestured around at the corners of the room, which were, to fair, impressively clean, though the flashing wallpaper rather distracted from the cleanliness of the floor. Sirius peered carefully into Remus’s face and then looked around the room again. “Too much?” he asked at length.

"Definitely.”

Sirius pouted.

"The wallpaper has to go.”

"But that charm took me ages!” Sirius protested.

"No flashing wallpaper,” said Remus firmly. “Do you want to give someone a seizure?”

Sirius made a face, but, at a quelling look from Remus, began to perform the counter charm.

"There,” he sulked, when the wallpaper had returned to normal. “Because shabby wallpaper is so festive.”

"I’m not saying it can’t be festive. I just think it could be a little less, um, dramatic. Subtly is class.”

"I’ve had enough class to last me a lifetime,” he said as he folded himself into the slowly collapsing sofa and pulled a threadbare Christmas throw around his shoulders.

Remus rolled his eyes and began work on the paper. When he was done, the walls sported a nice gold and red pattern that caught the light in interesting ways without making one feel in imminent need of medical attention.

"See? That’s nice, isn’t it?” said Remus, rather pleased with himself.

"I suppose,” Sirius replied, still sulky, but unable to be truly mad at anything in Gryffindor colors.

"Now the tree,” Remus began.

"What’s wrong with the tree?” he demanded indigently.

Remus knew he was going to have to make some compromises.

"I just think it would be nicer if it weren’t spinning.”

"It’s not _spinning_. It’s _rotating_.” Sirius rolled his eyes.

"If it were rotating it wouldn’t look as if it were about to take off into orbit. Now make it stop.”

Sirius pointed his wand out through a hole in the blanket and the tree slowed to a stop, still hovering slightly.

Remus knew better than to try to protest the extent of the tree trimmings so he instead set about replacing all the blue tape with temporary sticking charms (which put a stop to the wriggling), ignoring Sirius’s threats to use a permanent sticking charm to attach tinsel to various parts of his anatomy. Once this was done, the flat was almost passable.

"Sirius,” he said. “You’ve got to lose the hat.”

"No!”

"But it’s _singing_. Crudely, too, I might add.”

"Those are _my_ lyrics, Remus.”

"That was rather my point,” he muttered.

"I’m hurt,” said Sirius dramatically, flinging himself back against the sofa, which groaned ominously.

"Please?” Remus attempted.

"No.”

"Just for a while. I’m getting a headache.”

"You’re not going to deny me my one joy, Remus Lupin.”

As pleading clearly wasn’t getting him anywhere, Remus decided to move to a threat. Knowing he’d have to break out the big guns for this one, he took a hint from Sirius previous statement. One joy? They’d see about that.

"Sirius Black, you shut that thing up now or I’m not having sex with you until Epiphany.”

The hat was silenced almost instantly.

It was only then that Remus could hear the cackling laughter and shouts of mistletoe from down the hall.

"Oh Merlin,” he muttered, grabbing his wand again and heading for their bathroom.

"Aw, come on, Remus. Where’s your Christmas spirit?” called Sirius, leaping up and hurrying after him.

* * *

By the time Remus’s parents arrived, the flat was as close to in order as it was ever going to come. The hat was silenced, the wallpaper was a stable color, and at least a large portion of the mistletoe had been taken care of. Remus opened the door and was immediately enveloped in his mother’s arms.

“Remus!” Hope cried while Sirius looked on with fear for his flatmate’s life.

"Hi, Mum,” Remus replied, gently prying his mother off before briefly hugging his father as well. “Mum, Dad, this is Sirius.”

While the older Lupins had met Sirius before, they had only been brief interactions at the train station or in Diagon Alley. This Christmas, however, Remus’s parents had come up to London to visit some of Hope’s Muggle family. Relations had always been somewhat tense with that part of the family as they could, of course, have no idea of Remus’s condition and had the unfortunate habit of always inviting the Lupins around at the full moon. Remus himself had spent very little time with his Muggle relatives, though he knew more about them then most wizards would. For this evening, however, they would be in full wizarding company. Sirius had threatened to make dinner so Remus had done all the cooking and quickly set about finishing it up as his parents made themselves comfortable.

"Can’t I help you with that, dear?” asked his mother.

"I’ve got it, Mum. Just sit down, okay?”

Lyall looked around the tiny living room.

"It’s, um, _nicer_ than you described, Remus.”

"Decorations,” said Sirius quickly. “Holiday magic.” He looked extremely pleased with himself.

"You did a very good job with it,” Remus’s mother praised him.

Sirius glowed.

"Are you sure you won’t join us tomorrow at your grandparents’?” asked Lyall.

"No,” said Remus for what felt like the hundredth time. “Sirius and I will be fine. James might come round in the afternoon. Lily might too.” Remus and Sirius shared a quick, amused glance. “There’s a witch in the next building over who said we could use her connection to the floo network.” Having no actual fireplace of their own, the floo network did them very little good usually.

"Well that’s nice of her,” said Hope warmly. “And what about Peter?”

"I think he might come,” said Remus doubtfully.

"We told him to come before break _and_ we sent him an owl.” Sirius rolled his eyes. “He isn’t very organized.”

"Like you are,” Remus teased.

"Hey, who cleaned this place up for your parents?” demanded Sirius.

"Who made it livable in the first place?” Remus shot back, remembering weeks of magical decontamination that summer.

"Boys, boys,” said Lyall almost automatically. Having grown up the eldest of more brothers than he could keep track of, Mr. Lupin was very used to this sort of behavior.

After a pause, Hope cautiously asked the one question she really wanted an answer to.

"Is it, you know, _safe_ here for you?”

Remus kept stirring the soup, but his back went very ridged. The topic was avoided at all costs in the flat. It was Sirius and Remus’s safe place; Sirius’s family and Remus’s condition were not acceptable topics of conversation. After a moment of tension, Sirius spoke, trying to sound causal.

"Well, there’s nothing over the holidays, so it’s no big deal,” he said, shrugging.

Even though the Lupin’s knew that Sirius was aware of the situation, it was odd for them to hear someone else speaking, however vaguely, about Remus’s lycanthropy.

"But what about the summer? What about after Hogwarts, Remus?” his mother pressed.

Remus closed his eyes, willing himself to stay calm and cheerful.

"Mum, please. Can’t we just have Christmas?”

Lyall laid a hand on his wife’s arm and the subject was dropped.

"How are your classes?” he asked. “Seventh years, I can hardly believe it.”

The evening went on from there much as Remus had planned, though at one point, Lyall had to rescue Hope from a particularly enthusiastic bit of mistletoe that had escaped Remus’s scouring. They were partway through pudding when they heard a shriek from the bathroom followed by the tell-tale cackle.

"Excuse me, would you?” said Lyall, rising without missing a beat and going to save his unfortunate wife.

"I told you that stuff was foul,” Remus hissed.

"It’s not foul, it’s cute,” Sirius protested.

"Nothing that tries to eat my mother is cute, Sirius.”

"If it tried to eat my mother, I’d give it a reward,” was the dark reply.

There was a pause in which more wicked plant laughter could be heard.

"You’re not going to tell them, are you,” said Sirius quietly and Remus almost thought he sounded disappointed.

"No, of course not,” he whispered back. “What am I supposed to say? Mum, Dad, this is Sirius who you thought was my best friend turned flatmate, but actually that door you think leads to his bedroom is just a closet because we’re sleeping together?” He looked mortified and angry.

Sirius was about to retort when Remus’s parents reappeared. Hope looked a little pink, but otherwise unharmed.

"You alright, Mum?” asked Remus, standing up.

"Fine, fine,” she said, taking her seat and gesturing for Remus to do the same.

"I thought I’d gotten it all, but _someone_ ,” he glared pointedly at Sirius, “set rather a lot loose in the flat.”

"It’s all in the Christmas spirit,” said Lyall jovially.

"Exactly!” cried Sirius. “Thank you. That’s what I told him, but he wouldn’t listen. He never listens to me.”

_"You_ never listen to _me_ ,” Remus glowered.

* * *

“Here, dear, let me,” said Hope, taking the drying rag from Sirius before he could protest. He stood there awkwardly for a moment, not knowing what to do with himself, but then Lyall called from the living room, “Sirius, come tell me about your decorative charms” and he hurried off to complain about how Remus had put at stop to his flashing wallpaper and singing hat.

“How are you doing, Remus?” his mother asked once Sirius had gone. He could hear in her voice that she really meant it beyond the basic pleasantries.

“I’m-,” Remus began about to say “alright,” but he hesitated. Was he really alright? His life was such a mess. He was looking at his last few months at Hogwarts, staring down the metaphorical barrel towards the end of what he was convinced were the best years of his life. His future was dark, uncertain at best. No one with access to even the most basic Ministry files (so pretty much any wizarding employer) was ever going to hire him. The dark side was rapidly gaining power and he knew it was only a matter of time before they started coming for people like him, for Greyback’s children, thinking that such dark creatures would surely side with them. And then there was Sirius, shining, perfect Sirius with his messy dark hair and laughing gray eyes. Waking up next to Sirius and his stinky dog breath; going to sleep in his strong, careful arms; trying to eat his truly terrible cooking; arguing endlessly over how best to pay the rent; staying up until ungodly hours in the morning just talking about anything and everything. Each moment, waking and sleeping, spent in Sirius’s company made every bad a thing no more important than a speck of lint on his shabby robes.

“Remus?” his mother prompted, pulling him from his reverie. “Are you alright?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I think I am.”

“What is it?” she asked, setting down the plate she’d just finished drying and peering at her son.

Remus knew it pointless to say “nothing.”

_I’m in love, Mum, I’m in love! I’m finally in love. After all those years of thinking I could never have the life that you and Dad always dreamed I somehow could, I’m living it. I’m living that dream right now. Everything’s so broken, but it doesn’t matter because I’m in love!_

“There’s just a lot going on right now,” he said quietly.

“I know,” replied his mother gently, touching his shoulder. “But they won’t hurt you.”

“You can’t know that. I’m half-blood to them and a-.” He left the pointed pause that meant “werewolf” in the Lupin family. “Why wouldn’t they want me? The only question is dead or alive.”

“Remus!”

“It’s true, Mum. This is only going to get worse.”

Hope sighed.

“I know, darling, I know, but you have us and you have your friends and that’s worth a lot.”

“I know,” said Remus, smiling again.

The pair took a moment to simply _be_ before Hope snapped back to life and said briskly, “Well, let’s finish getting these things cleaned up, shall we?”

"Alright.”

"So any girls, Remus?”

_Oh here we go again._

"What about that Lily Evans? She sounds very nice.”

"James would actually murder me. Anyway, we’re just friends. Dating Evans would just be,” he searched for the right words that wouldn’t give him away, “weird.”

* * *

“Happy Christmas, Remus,” said Lyall, hugging his son again. “You too, Sirius.”

“Happy Christmas, Dad. Give them my best tomorrow.”

“Of course.”

“Take care, sweetheart,” said his mother, hugging Remus and Sirius in turn. “And thank you for having us.”

“It was our pleasure,” said Remus, graciously.

“Yeah, thanks for coming,” Sirius chimed in.

Final Happy Christmas’s were exchanged and the elder Lupins took their leave.

“Well,” sighed Sirius flopping down on the sofa, “that was something, huh?”

“What do you mean?” asked Remus, joining him.

“Your parents have a lot of energy.”

“I suppose. I never really thought about it.”

“Well they have,” said Sirius emphatically.

“You think it went alright?” Remus asked.

“You fret too much.”

“Do you?” he pressed.

“It was fine.”

“Fine?”

“Remus, mate. It was lovely. Food was great. Your parents had a good time. No one fell through the sofa.”

Remus sighed.

“What?”

“I just worry about them is all.”

“They’ll be fine,” said Sirius, nestling down into the cushions.

Remus sighed again, but nodded.

“Hey,” said Sirius gently. “It’ll be alright. You’ll see. The war can’t last much longer, right? But let’s not think about that right now, eh? It’s almost Christmas; come here.” He held up an arm and Remus, after a moment’s hesitation, snuggled up next to him. “There. See?”

“It’s cold,” mumbled Remus, as a wavy of sleepiness hit him.

“Here, I’ve got an idea.”

Sirius got up, ignoring Remus’s quiet protests, and took one of the Christmas throws over to the red rug on the floor in front of the fire. Upon closer inspection, Remus saw now that it was not a rug. Trimmed in fluffy white like a Santa hat, the red satin object was, in fact, a holiday dog bed. Sirius knelt down and poked at the magical fireplace with his wand and the dancing flames grew warmer. He then gave himself a vigorously shake and transformed. Padfoot looked at Remus for a moment before letting out a quiet bark.

“Oh hush, I’m coming,” said Remus, getting up.

Padfoot picked up the corner of the blanket in his teeth and wagged enthusiastically.

Remus rolled his eyes, but had to laugh as he sat down on the dog bed. Padfoot curled up beside him and Remus pulled the Christmas throw over them both. Together, they watched the magical flames dance.

“I love you,” Remus breathed.

Padfoot turned and licked him heartily.

“Ugh,” said Remus, wiping his face clean of drool.

* * *

Christmas morning would find the pair curled together in font of the magical fire on the holiday dog bed. Sirius had transformed back in his sleep, but had somehow managed to cover the whole flat in black hair without moving. As James would comment later while pulling dog hair from his Christmas pudding, much to Peter’s amusement, it was a very hairy Christmas, but a good one, all the same.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> The attacking mistletoe comes from Shoebox Project, which is a wonderful fic.  
> Remus's parents' names are what it says on the Harry Potter wiki. I'm guessing that info came from Pottermore.


End file.
